The True Hero
by OurBlueStorm
Summary: Thetis never put Patroclus' name on the tomb at the end of the Song of Achilles. He has been wandering the earth for 3000 years, his name forgotten by almost all. That is, until he gets a visitor. DISCONTINUED ON THIS SITE-HAS BEEN FINISHED AND MOVED TO AO3 (same username)
1. Chapter 1

Nico POV  
"I have a job for you. Don't ask questions."  
"What is it?"  
Hades rolled his eyes at his son, but calmed himself and gave Nico the answer. "A duty of mine as king of the Underworld is to make sure that not only do the damned souls receive punishment, but the blessed souls are happy. It has come to my attention that a certain soul in Elysium has not been at peace with himself since he got here, roughly three thousand years ago."  
"Why would that trouble you?" asked Nico. Normally, he knew, his father didn't care enough about the souls under his care.  
"This particular person has been here a while, is well known, and is greatly beloved by my brethren on Olympus. There would be great displeasure if nothing was done about this."  
"What do you want me to do about it?" Nico said, annoyed at his father's indirect explanation.  
"That is for you to find out. I do not know what will appease this spirit, and contact between the dead and living is forbidden. I doubt you would be able to get him to talk to you anyways," Hades said.  
Nico stared in disbelief. "Why me?"  
Hades sighed. "You are my son and one of the few living who are granted passage to the Underworld. My question for you, rather, is why not you."  
"Can you at least give me a name?" Nico asked, annoyed.  
"A name should not be relevant. He fought and died in the Trojan Wars, and that is all the information I will give you."  
Nico stared. "How am I supposed to-"  
Hades cut his son off with a loud sigh. "I do not know what he desires, so it would be best for you to be on your way."  
Nico glared for a moment longer, but gave in. "Any other requirements for this dumb quest of yours?"  
Hades returned the sour look. "You may bring three companions if you wish. I doubt you will need them; this quest should not be dangerous. You may have to fight of a very powerful water nymph, though. Also possibly a river god. Maybe some shades. Many people died and were never claimed after the war, but easy other than that."  
Nico walked out of his father's throne room, head reeling. "Not dangerous. Yeah, right. Everything is dangerous with him."  
He returned to camp by shadow travel, glad that the late spring sun provided shadows to jump through. He landed back at camp, so distracted that he had almost walked straight into Will Solace.  
His boyfriend chuckled. "Hold up, sunshine. Where are you off to?"  
Nico shrugged of Will's hand from his shoulder and mumbled something about speaking with Chiron. Will's face turned stern. "Are you okay? You look tired." Realization crashed over his face. "You shadow traveled, didn't you?"  
"So what if I did? I'm fine. I just need to talk to Chiron.  
Will shrugged and laced their fingers together. "Fine. I'm coming with you, though."  
Nico almost refused, but he didn't want Chiron to be the only one to know of his quest. He turned and pulled Will in the direction of the Big House.  
Chiron and Mr. D were deep in conversation when the pair entered the room.  
"Ah. Hello," Chiron cleared his throat. "Can we help you?"  
"Possibly," Nico grunted, flopping down on the couch, not having realized how heavy his limbs were feeling. He relayed his encounter with his father to the immortals, not sparing a detail.  
Once he was finished, Dionysus and Chiron exchanged a look. "It seems like a done deal to me," Chiron said. "I expect you will want to set off as soon as possible?"  
"That's just it, though!" Nico's anger shone through his calm demeanor. "My father didn't tell me who I was supposed to help, and I don't know where to start!"  
Chiron glanced at him with a pitying expression. "Then your first course of action is to find which spirit it is."  
Nico bit back a retort. "That's harder than it sounds, you know."  
"Your father will grant you save passage to anywhere in the Underworld," Dionysus said. "You have nothing to fear, no time limit, and once you find the spirit, it may not be hard to appease it."  
"Assuming I find the spirit," Nico grumbled. "My father only told me that he fought in Troy."  
"So you know where to go if you don't find the spirit, then," Chiron said reassuringly. "Also, you may bring three companions. I think, if the right ones are chosen, this quest will be rather simple."  
Nico wanted to throw something once he and Will left the Big House. This quest was so annoyingly vague, he had no place to start, and why would he care about a single unhappy spirit in Elysium?  
Will took his hand. Nico calmed down a little bit, but it was only then he realized the grass around his feet had withered and died. "Oops."  
Will gave a little smile. "No hard feelings." He turned to face Nico, holding both his hands now. "Don't let it get to your head. It's a simple quest."  
"It's annoyingly vague. Even Chiron isn't helping," Nico snapped.  
"We know where to start, though," Will said. "You must go to the Underworld and hope you find the spirit." Nico nodded, not meeting Will's eyes. "Who will you take with you?" he asked.  
Nico paused. He hadn't thought about that, but now was almost dreading bringing three people with him. "I don't know," he muttered.  
"Your father said something about a river god and a water nymph? Percy's back, you could bring him." Nico really didn't want to bring Percy though.  
He pursed his lips, Will noticing. "Okay, then, you could bring Annabeth as well. She'd be helpful," Will said. Nico nodded, a little more at peace.  
His thoughts were faster than his brain, though. "Will you come?"  
Will gave his annoying thoughtful smile. "I'd go with you anywhere."  
His boyfriend leaned in to lightly kiss him.  
Of course, Nico would later deny eagerly kissing him back, leaning in and burying his fingers in Will's blonde hair, but for now, he was content right where he was.


	2. Chapter 2

Jason thrived in Elysium. It was like the heaven of the Underworld was never ending, growing according to the people that came to live here. Sometimes it felt too big, but in the few months he knew it had been since he had died at the hands of Caligula, he had seen many old friends greet him.

Elysium was always sunny, a light breeze always comforting when Jason stepped outside. The sky was always blue, and everyone in the afterlife of heroes was happy.

There were hundreds of places a person could go if they got bored, though. There were millions upon millions of food options, and a recreation center on every block you could walk. There were agoras reflective the ancient Greek culture scattered all around Elysium, and despite the massive size of the place, Jason was never alone.

He had his own equivalent of a mansion that had been given to him upon his arrival. If the patterns he had noticed were correct, the more heroic somebody was, the bigger their living quarters. Even the dastardliest of the heroes in Elysium got beachside luxury apartments. Jason was fortunate that the judges had been kind and he was given a mansion, right next to the one of Luke Castellan.

Luke had been Jason's closest friend since he arrived in Elysium. He spent more time at Luke's place than at his own, which was always bustling with friends just like him.

Even now, he walked and talked at a slow pace with the son of Hermes. Luke would pause every few minutes, and introduce Jason to another hero he knew. Michael Yew, then Selina Beauregard and Charlie Beckendorf.

Jason did miss his old friends, though. News had reached him that Apollo had finished his task of restoring the oracles and was sent back to Olympus, but he still visited his demigod children often. Jason had smiled at the news, knowing full well that Apollo would not forget his experience soon.

Jason and Luke walked, chatting quietly. He would occasionally get a few stares due to the massive wounds all over his body, seeing as the spear mark never went away, and the shirts he wore were constantly soaked with blood. It never hurt, though, as much as he would probe the wound out of curiosity. Luke, too, had a wound, on his shoulder, a dark mark against his orange camp T-shirt. Many of the other heroes had wounds as well. He saw a young man with a dent in his skull above his left ear and a young woman with terrible burns all across her body, face hardly recognizable.

Luke and Jason were sitting on a stone wall not far from a massive shopping mall when a large, burly man dressed in a simple white tunic and purple cape came up to them. He had gray hair stemming from his temples, but eyes that looked lively. The man had a clever smile stretched across his lips, reddish-brown hair and beard covering most of his face. He had a small puncture wound on his chest, but it was not terribly bloody or noticeable.

"Hello, boys," he said.

"Odysseus," Luke responded respectfully.

Jason started, but Odysseus gave him a reassuring smile. "You must be Jason. I know your namesake, actually, but I must admit he's not as good looking as you."

Jason raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. "Thanks, I guess." He felt like he had to say something, so he did. "I've heard a lot about you."

Odysseus laughed loudly. "Quite the charmer, aren't you, son of Zeus?"

Jason almost retorted with a claim to Jupiter instead, but Luke nudged him when he opened his mouth, shaking his head. Jason shrugged.

Odysseus kept talking, intelligent eyes seeming to pierce right through the boys. "You must be new around here, Jason. I don't think I've seen you before. Nasty wound you have there."

Jason chuckled lightly, the hulking warrior making him uneasy. "Reborn and evil Roman emperors tend to get on my nerves."

Odysseus snorted. "Tell me about it." He turned and found a comrade of his, walking alone.

The man was maybe in his late twenties, but had a face and eyes that had seen centuries. He wore golden armor, a helmet tucked under his arm. A sword was sheathed at his side, but that didn't make him seem any less dangerous. He had jaw-length wavy golden-blond hair, and green eyes like a shallow ocean. He was not smiling, rather looking at Jason with frightening intensity. Jason almost asked who he was, until he saw the arrow sticking out of the man's heel, dripping blood.

Jason tried not to stare at the legendary warrior Achilles, but it was hard not to. His features looked so clean and pristine, almost like he was fake. Then, Jason realized, maybe he was. His eyes that held centuries seemed dead, face worn down as if he was waiting for something he knew would never come.

Odysseus clapped Achilles on the back. "Stop being such a pessimist, Achilles! We have newcomers. This one," he gestured to Jason, "Is a child of Zeus."

Achilles narrowed his eyes at Jason, opening his mouth to speak. "The gods took everything from me. Once I was a trusting person, you know. No longer."

The warrior hero turned and walked away. Jason stared after him. Odysseus laughed. Luke and Jason stared at the wise hero, gazes curious.

"Achilles has been wallowing in self-deprecation and guilt ever since he got here," Odysseus said. "It has nothing to do with you."

"Why?" asked Luke. "I only met him when I went to the Styx, and he told me virtually nothing. Just something about how his arrogance killed him."

Odysseus' smile faded. He looked after Achilles. "When Achilles was alive, he was vibrant with life, not like he is now. Now he will spend eternity here… in guilt."

"What is he guilty of?" Jason asked.

Odysseus turned his gaze back to the boys. "You have heard Achilles' story, correct?"

"Yes," Jason replied. "His mother was a sea nymph, Thetis, and when he was called to fight in Troy, she hid him among a group of young women to keep him safe, until you found him and brought him to fight. After years of fighting, Agamemnon insulted him, took his bed-slave, and Achilles refused to fight, until Hector started killing his men. Achilles killed Hector and dragged his body around on the back of his chariot, until he gave the body back to Hector's father, Priam, and Paris killed him."

Odysseus looked angry. Jason feared it had been something he said. "Not all of that is true," the hero said. "Yes, Agamemnon insulted him and took his bed-slave, but Achilles never slept with her, and he didn't kill Hector because he killed his men." Seeing the faces of confusion, he continued. "Hector had already killed many of his men. Another man, named Patroclus, begged Achilles to fight when he refused to, and then Patroclus donned Achilles' armor and led the armies of Greece for him. Hector killed Patroclus, and Achilles went into such a rage that he overflowed the river of Troy with blood and bodies."

"Why have I never heard of Patroclus?" Luke said. "If he was as important to the war was you say, why does nobody know his name?"

Odysseus sighed. "Patroclus and Achilles were lovers, so when he died, Achilles wanted their ashes to be intermingled so they would be buried together. When Achilles died, the ashes were put together. I…" Odysseus lifted his eyes. "Achilles had a son, named Pyrrhus, who refused to put Patroclus' name on the gravestone. Patroclus came to me when I slept, asked me to put the name on the stone, so I asked Pyrrhus, not wanting to mark his father's grave without his permission, but he refused, said it would taint his father's legacy with the name of an unimportant commoner."

Jason and Luke exchanged glances. The king of Ithaca was distraught, and not knowing what to do, Jason kept talking. "Did you know Patroclus?"

"I did," Odysseus murmured. "He was good, kind, honest. I understood why Achilles loved him so much, and he didn't deserve the fate he got. As far as I know, his soul is still tied to the world of the living, but it has been so long that nobody knows his name anymore to put his name on the stone. Achilles has been mourning for the last three thousand years, living in constant guilt of letting his beloved go out onto the battlefield as a resort of his arrogance at not coming to terms with Agamemnon."

Jason's eyes flickered back to the solitary figure in the distance that was Achilles. He had no idea what the hero was feeling, and wasn't sure if he wanted to know. Three thousand years of guilt and what-ifs were enough to make someone go mad. And now, he had no hope of seeing his lover again.


End file.
